


The Loudness of My Heart

by hereticalvision



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticalvision/pseuds/hereticalvision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur had no interest in acting or in theatre types, until Morgana dragged him to the university theatre and the sexy stage manager gave him a goofy smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Loudness of My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for merlin_holidays at LJ. Click links for soundtrack!

**The Loudness of My Heart**

The first time Arthur laid eyes on Merlin he was absently putting the final touches to the scenery for the first act, swaying slowly in time to [some old doo-wop number](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afAdv0gt-jI) Arthur had never heard before. Merlin told him later that it's by a group called the Gay Knights and that it's kind of an in-joke. In that moment though, all Arthur knew was that something in the measured side to side rock of Merlin's hips caught his eye and before he knew it, he was taking in all the details.

Black jeans which look as though they were designed for a tight fit were over-large on the skinny body and held up by a white belt. Green converse on his feet, yellow t-shirt, black rubber bangles all up the arm holding the brush. Arthur's reaction somewhere in his mind was _wonderful, another hipster_ , but he kept looking at the boy absorbed in his task, something joyful and serene in his manner and Arthur wanted to fit his hands over those hips and have those feelings for himself.

 

Arthur had no particular interest in theatre, despite all Morgana's sly remarks about his drama queen tendencies.

"It's the one arena in which you would be _encouraged_ to show off, brother dear," she said, blowing on her drying yellow nail varnish.

Really, Arthur should stop coming home. If he just stayed in his halls then Morgana would have to expend effort to irritate him instead of merely including it as part of her weekend routine.

"I hear the theatre types are all terribly posh and privileged, just your type of person," she went on, smirking.

Arthur glared at her and she laughed.

"All right," she said, purring. "I'll make you a deal."

Arthur never could learn not to make deals with Morgana under _any circumstances whatsoever_. Arthur was too traumatised to remember the details of this particular instance, which ended with him damn near naked at King's Cross Station, but he did remember that it was Morgana reaching for a camera which resulted in him snapping.

"Fine," Arthur burst out. "I'll audition but you had better not cast me as Romeo!"

Morgana smiled serenely and though he'd swear blind she never pressed the shutter release, every other week he has to detag those pictures of himself on facebook.

Mercifully Gwen and her boyfriend Lance were cast as Romeo and Juliet. Arthur rolled his eyes at the sugary sweetness of the casting but from Morgana's perspective it made total sense: those two can always be relied upon to look utterly besotted with one another. And it meant that Arthur got the part of Mercutio, which handed him a bunch of the best lines.

The auditions were held in the tech box of the theatre, which had once been a church hall or something; to reach the tech box, Arthur had to climb up a rickety wooden ladder past a sign reading 'Abso-fucking-lutely no smoking in here because this place is a death trap'. During his audition piece Morgana had smirked at him from behind thick-rimmed glasses she didn't really need. She and some guy with curly sand-coloured hair who looked far too sensible to be in a theatre had made him give the Queen Mab speech twice, the second time, "More unhinged, please darling."

Arthur had looked askance at all the hipster types hanging around on his way out. A guy with shampoo-advert hair eating an apple like it was an obscene act winked at him on his way out and Arthur honestly didn't know if he should feel amused, turned on or disdainful. "Prince of cats," he muttered to himself as he went.

 

"You know you do actually have to show up for rehearsal occasionally?" Morgana had snapped at him that morning. Apparently reminding Morgana that he had other commitments, like _lectures_ and _tutorials_ and, you know, _studying_ was just not good enough to ward off a lecture about how he should be taking this seriously, which was a bit of a joke given that he was only doing this because the alternative was nudity on the Underground.

So here Arthur was. The foyer was empty and whoever the girl was who'd let him in had wandered off again. Bored, Arthur wandered through the door into the stalls and it was then he saw Merlin painting scenery with tarpaulin down on the floor.

He didn't realise that his whole body had turned towards Merlin until Morgana's voice broke his concentration and he had to turn back to see her. "Oh, here you are. Watching the stage crew do actual [ work](http://youtu.be/qsoa1wHJT2E), huh?"

There were in fact four other people on stage painting, including Shampoo Model Man: Arthur just hadn't noticed any of them except, "Who's the skinny guy?"

Morgana looked up. "You mean Merlin? He's the stage manager."

"I see," Arthur said and he would swear that there was no inflection whatsoever but Morgana smirked anyway.

"Think he's pretty, do you?"

"Shut up, Morgana," Arthur muttered as he walked out of the auditorium.

 

The swaying hips stuck in Arthur's mind for days afterwards. The theatre, affectionately dubbed "Bedlam" by the students who loved it, became somewhere to go on purpose rather than only as and when dragged. Of course, Arthur couldn't exactly admit that and a rather complicated dance began as Arthur tried to avoid Morgana while contriving an opportunity to meet Merlin.

Mostly people just let him hang around the stupidly scruffy coffee shop, trying to memorise Mercutio's lines.

On Thursday afternoon, finally, Merlin wandered in with Shampoo Model Man.

"Balls," Arthur muttered to himself as the two passed him.

"…that's great, Gwaine," Merlin was saying, "but for that we'd need an actual, like, budget."

"Can't tell me it wouldn't be spectacular," Gwaine replied, all lilting accent and sparkly eyes.

"Yeah, well, we've somehow got to build the sets for all three of the productions going on this term and we're still in debt from that hideous dreamscape _thing_ someone talked me into letting the art school students put on here."

Gwaine grinned. "She was totally worth it, Merlin, promise."

Merlin shook his head in deliberate exasperation but the smile on his face was definitely fond and despite the fact that Gwaine had just referenced a _her_ , Arthur still didn't like it.

"Aren't you the stage manager?" Arthur hadn't meant to speak.

Two pairs of startled eyes focused on him.

Somewhere deep down Arthur knew that the good-mannered thing to do would be to apologise for overhearing but instead he heard himself saying, "Shouldn't you therefore have minions of some kind?"

Merlin straightened from his relaxed lean against the wall. "Maybe in a real theatre. Here, stage manager more or less just means that mine are the hands that are always on deck."

Arthur nodded sagely. "Would some rugby boy types to do the heavy lifting help?"

"Ooh, do you have a ready supply, princess?" Gwaine asked, teeth all gleaming.

Arthur made a mental note to point Elyan at Gwaine for all he's worth, and make it clear to the lads that the one in the desert scarf is strictly off limits. He looked at Merlin and raised an eyebrow.

Merlin cleared his throat. "That might actually help, yeah. You want to sit with us?"

Arthur grinned. "Absolutely."

 

Gwaine as it turned out was a terrible, terrible slut and no threat whatsoever. The problem was that Merlin seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that Arthur was trying like hell not to drool all over him every time they were in the same room.

 _Everyone_ liked Merlin, was the thing. Even Morgana, who barely had time for anyone except Gwen, seemed fond of his big, ridiculous smile which is just about the dorkiest thing Arthur could ever have imagined and made his heart do loop de loops.

Really, it was fucking pathetic.

So Arthur's roping in his rugby friends (other than making Gwaine's eyes gleam) hadn't really had any effect. Arthur hung around trying to do nice things for Merlin, who either looked a little confused or didn't notice at all.

"All right, enough of the heart eyes," Gwaine said one day when Arthur was hanging around doing nothing in particular, just watching Merlin chat to Morgana, Leon and the backstage crew.

"What?"

"So you're trying to get Merlin to notice you."

"What?" Arthur repeated stupidly.

"Oh, you're not the first," Gwaine said, shrugging. "But the sweetness and light thing is so obviously forced that Merlin just ain't buying it. So try a new approach."

Arthur's mind was racing. He thought about telling Gwaine he was wrong, but in all honesty he could use the help.

"What would you suggest?" he said at last.

Gwaine grinned.

 

"So you going to be around on the weekend?" Arthur asked casually.

"Can't. Protest," Merlin said absently.

Arthur took a deep breath. "Oh, you're not one of _those_ , are you?"

Merlin looked up, confused.

"One of those people who thinks holding a sign is going to achieve anything?"

Merlin blinked at Arthur as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I have a right to express my views."

"You do," Arthur acknowledged. "But it's better done in a ballot box. And who keeps getting elected? Oxbridge boys."

"That's because they have all the money for campaigns and…"

"And we live in a democracy," Arthur said flatly. "There's basically a free market on politicians – you can elect anyone you like. And yet."

"You are such a [prat](http://youtu.be/i-AYID5vcZ4)!" Merlin blurted out.

Arthur sort of expected that he should feel dismayed by Merlin's reaction to him, but that was the most he'd managed to elicit in over a fortnight of trying.

It wasn't the tactic Arthur had intended to employ but hell, it would do.

 

Thereafter, Arthur pulled Merlin's pigtails every chance he got. Desert scarves? Tragically hip. Vegetarianism? Total affectation. Theatre? A waste of valuable sport-playing and/or studying time.

"You… I… What are you even doing here if you think it's all a waste of time?"

"Morgana," Arthur said darkly.

Merlin shook his head. "So everything important to me is a waste of time in your eyes?"

"I didn't know desert scarves were that important," Arthur smirked in response.

"Gah!" Merin burst out before walking away.

Gwaine looked at Arthur in disbelief. "When I said he liked people who argued with him, I didn't think you'd go this far. He's properly taken a dislike to you, you know. Talks about it all the time."

"Does he?" Arthur said, delighted.

Gwaine thought for a moment and laughed. "Yeah, I guess he does at that."

 

On Sunday no one was in Bedlam at all. The coffee shop wasn't even open; Arthur wandered in with his stolen-from-Morgana key and wandered into the auditorium.

The stage was bathed in a rainbow of light which kept shifting. Colours sparkled across the white couch, the only piece of furniture on the black stage.

"Wow," Arthur said, bouncing up to stand in the light, letting it dance on his arms.

"Oy!" a voice shouted. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Arthur grinned, heading up the ladder to the tech box.

Merlin glared at him. "I'm trying something out.

"Thought you were the stage manager, not the lighting guy."

Merlin shrugged, bashful. "Stage manager I got landed with. This is what I do."

"It's beautiful," Arthur admitted.

Merlin looked at him from the corner of his eye, perhaps checking for mockery. When none was evident he gave a slightly confused, "Thanks."

The two sat in companionable silence for a moment.

"All right, so you're half sweetheart, half wind-up merchant," Merlin said, fiddling with buttons which turned the stage red. "What's that about?"

"There's something about you, Merlin," Arthur said softly. "I just can't put my finger on it."

Merlin waited a moment, bemusement in his expression. Then he blinked. "That's the line you're going with? Really?"

Arthur gave a surprised laugh. "Thought I would, yeah."

"You have no idea how often I've heard that," Merlin said, his eyes alight with gentle mockery. "Guys are always telling me there's something 'different' about me. I really hoped you'd have a more original line."

Arthur grinned. "Well I tell you what. Have a drink with me and I'll tell you all my best material until you hear something you like."

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" Merlin said, but a smile was flirting with the corners of his mouth and his eyes were all invitation.

Not daring to think too much about it, Arthur leaned forward and brushed his lips against Merlin's, just once, just slightly. When he pulled away Merlin's eyes were wide and the teasing expression had faded.

Arthur cleared his throat. "So meet me at eight?"

Merlin blinked as if to clear his head. "Yeah," he said, "yeah."

Arthur would have teased him for it, but the kiss seemed to have fried his own brain too. He just smiled, resisted the urge to kiss Merlin again and made his exit.

It was amazing he didn't fall down the damn ladder.

 

Arthur spent the rest of the day trying to ensure he'd look as hot as possible for their date that night.

It seemed to have worked, if the way Merlin's eyes scanned his entire body was any indication.

He heard about Merlin's best friend from school, Will, and his mother, Hunith. He heard about stern, scary Uncle Gaius' eyebrows. He heard about Merlin's engineering degree and his mixed bag of contradictory ambitions and how blasé Merlin was about which of them might come to be.

In exchange, Arthur told Merlin about Uther and Morgana – my _half_ -sister, thank you. He told him about economics and business and wanting to do his best because Father wouldn't be around forever and who was going to look after those employees if Arthur didn't?

Somehow they ended up back at the theatre, the centre of their respective worlds.

Merlin went to the bathroom but pointed Arthur at the turntable in the corner the crew used to play soul music when they were in full on creation mode.

Arthur flicked through 45s until he read '[Some kind of wonderful](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MouM59AbnE)'.

It seemed appropriate.

As the first notes rang out, Merlin wandered back in. "I liberated some beer from the crew stash," he said with a grin, flopping into a seat in the front row.

"Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance!" Arthur cried, jumping of the stage and pulling at Merlin's sleeve.

"Oh, sure, quote your lines at me," Merlin groused, but he let himself be pulled onto the empty stage.

Arthur didn't know how to dance to soul music. Or at all, really. But the image of Merlin swaying to that soul music had been burned into his brain and he really wanted to see Merlin move that way again.

Merlin had none of Arthur's self-consciousness; as soon as he was up his Converse-clad feet were forming patterns on the floor, side to side, sweeping round, creating circles. At first Arthur was content to watch him, but Merlin kept catching his eye with that maddening glint, a raised eyebrow taunting, _aren't you going to dance with me?_

Arthur stepped forward, letting the gentle rhythm of the music move first his shoulders then his feet, his eyes always on Merlin. He slowly moved closer, letting his hands reach for those maddening hips. Merlin gleamed up at him in the half-light and Arthur touched his tongue to the corner of that smile before kissing Merlin long and slow as the rhythm of the song beat into his blood and Merlin's hips, still moving in time to it, moved to brush against his.

The song wasn't very long, being on an old style record and all, but when Merlin pulled away in the silence, Arthur could have sworn his lips were bruised.

"Um," Merlin said, every line of his body saying _not quite ready for this_.

"When can I see you again?" Arthur asked at once.

Merlin grinned, honest and open and Arthur was hopelessly, hopelessly head over heels for this boy.

 

On opening night, Arthur put on his costume and looked at himself in the mirror. They'd put him all in white with kohl around his eyes and he grinned at himself in the mirror.

Merlin was backstage before he took up his position in the tech box, and he positively gulped when he saw Arthur, who immediately advanced on him, predatory instincts in full force.

"So," Arthur breathed into his ear.

"So," Merlin all but whimpered.

"On the last night, I'll let you take me home in my costume," Arthur whispered.

When Merlin looked at him, his eyes were all pupil. "Tease."

"[Oh](http://youtu.be/OGzt-6qILJA%20), I'll make good," Arthur said, voice all promises. He mouthed the corner of Merlin's jaw.

"One day," Merlin said breathlessly, "I'm going to get you to take off your shirt and I'm going to paint colours up your back like you were scenery – my scenery, that no one else gets to look at."

"Dragons and manly things?" Arthur asked into the curve of Merlin's ear.

"Rainbows and happy things," Merlin countered, pulling Arthur's head so that their lips met.

It was of course at that point that Morgana, the harpy, burst onto the scene. "Arthur, why are you… Oh, can't you molest Merlin later?"

"Oh, I will," Arthur promised Merlin before he turned to Morgana. "What do you want?"

Morgana waved at Merlin as he left in a flurry of clumsy. She turned to Arthur and smirked at him. "Just making sure you hadn't bolted. Nice costume, by the way. I gather Merlin liked it?"

"Merlin liked it," Arthur said, sighing.

"So – theatre not the worst thing I could have forced you to do?"

Arthur smiled, anticipating the night with Merlin that lay ahead. "Not the worst thing, no."

~fin


End file.
